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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103887">Wouldn't It Be Nice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzybee/pseuds/bizzybee'>bizzybee</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Day At The Beach, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, and they were ROOMMATES, oh god they were roommates, saw the new heroes banner, thought fuck it. dorogrid beach time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:48:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzybee/pseuds/bizzybee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorothea and Ingrid spend a day at the beach.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dorothea Arnault/Ingrid Brandl Galatea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wouldn't It Be Nice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I speed-wrote this in two hours when I saw the new Heroes banner. They're gay and in love!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Darling? Are you alright in there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea knocks twice on the bathroom door, leaning her forehead against it. It’s usually her who spends all the time getting ready before she and Ingrid go out, but Ingrid’s been stuck in the bathroom for nearly an hour now, waving off any previous questions Dorothea’s asked through the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine!” Ingrid says. “I’m just- my hair.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea smiles. “I told you you should’ve gotten it trimmed when we were in town last month.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid answers with a frustrated groan. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea nearly trips when the door opens in front of her. Ingrid stands there, a hand still on the doorknob, a sheepish look on her face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea blinks rapidly, trying to take in everything at once, from Ingrid’s water shoes, to her board shorts that go past her knees, to the long sleeve, turtleneck swim shirt she wears, all the way to her hair, which has morphed into a shoulder length, unruly mess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh,” Ingrid groans. “Don’t give me that look.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea smiles. “What look?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what look,” Ingrid says, her nose scrunching. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea’s smile only widens. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She pauses, then softens. “You look fine, Ingrid. Really.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid frowns. “Help me with my hair?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea laughs. “Of course.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid steps back so that Dorothea can enter their cramped bathroom, positioning herself behind Ingrid in front of the mirror and reaching for her hairbrush. Ingrid’s hair is even more of a mess from this angle, almost matted against her scalp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea stifles a giggle, putting down the brush to pick through the knot with her fingers. “What the hell did you do back here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid grumbles out something undecipherable, scratching the back of her neck with one hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea lets herself laugh this time, leaning her forehead at the nape of Ingrid’s neck for a moment before resuming her work. “What was that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried to braid it,” Ingrid says, grumpy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as she says that, Dorothea finds a ponytail, tangled around a lock of Ingrid’s hair. “I can see that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop making fun of me,” Ingrid complains. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not,” Dorothea promises, but has to suppress her smile by biting her lip when she makes eye contact with Ingrid in the mirror. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence falls over them as Dorothea picks away at Ingrid’s hair, making quick progress. When she reaches for the brush, Ingrid’s shoulders deflate with a sigh of relief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not gonna get a good spot,” Dorothea comments.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t really care,” Ingrid says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me neither.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea brushes out the smaller knots of Ingrid’s hair, thick and coarse under her hands. It’s something they’ve done many times before, practically since they became roommates. Dorothea does Ingrid’s hair, Ingrid does Dorothea’s dishes. It’s equivalent exchange. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ponytail,” Dorothea says, reaching out her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid takes a band off her wrist, passing it off to Dorothea with a brush of their fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just doing a pony,” Dorothea says, placing the hairband between her lips as she gathers Ingrid’s hair in her hands. “It’ll probably get wrecked in the water anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea ties off Ingrid’s hair with a flourish, placing both hands on her shoulders and her chin on top of Ingrid’s head. “There,” she says. “Now cheer up,” she gives her shoulders a squeeze. “We’re going to the beach! It’s gonna be fun! Let’s see that handsome smile of yours, my dearest Ingrid.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid glares at her, crossing her arms over her chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good enough,” Dorothea says, and plants a kiss on the top of Ingrid’s head. “Now let’s go. We can put on sunscreen when we get there.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s her first time actually visiting the beach with Ingrid, but Dorothea isn’t all that surprised when Ingrid isn’t wearing an actual swimsuit under her coverup, and instead only rubs lotion over her neck, face, and lower legs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sunburn easily?” she guesses from the driver’s seat as they drive along the coast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A bit,” Ingrid says sheepishly. “I, um, brought a hat? To protect my face, I mean.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re adorable,” Dorothea says. “I literally might die when I see your complete look.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid socks her on the arm, cheeks turning pink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Am I not allowed to rightfully call my most beautiful darling gorgeous roommate adorable? Was that in our contract? Did I miss that when I signed?” It’s too easy to tease Ingrid like this, to make her face go red and her eyes go wide. Dorothea enjoys it, maybe a bit too much. It’s nice to have someone so close to her who shows their emotions so readily. It’s refreshing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate you,” Ingrid says halfheartedly, leaning against the car window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmhmm,” Dorothea says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Minutes later, they’re pulling into a spot, Ingrid stretching into the backseat for their towel and cooler, Dorothea putting on her sunglasses and checking her lipstick in the mirror. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re lucky enough to find a free umbrella, and Dorothea spreads out their towel while Ingrid rifles through the cooler, already pulling out one of their water bottles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea takes a seat with the bottle of sunscreen, pulling her coverup off her head and starting to rub it into her arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ingrid?” She calls after a moment. “Can I ask a favor?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid doesn’t reply, and Dorothea turns. Ingrid’s eyes are trained on Dorothea’s back, the water bottle sitting still and undrunken from in her hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ingrid?” Dorothea tries again. “You good there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid startles, then takes a long pull from her water, pulling down the hem of her shirt. “What? Yeah, I’m fine. You okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Dorothea says, brow furrowing. “Help me with my back?” She stretches the bottle of sunscreen behind her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea watches the line of Ingrid’s throat as she swallows, screwing the cap back on her water and letting it drop onto the towel. “Yeah, sure. Fine. Yeah. Your back. I can do that.” She scoots forward until she’s kneeling behind Dorothea, thighs bracketing Dorothea’s hips. She takes the bottle of sunscreen from Dorothea, and Dorothea hugs her knees to her chest, listening as Ingrid uncaps the bottle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hands are cool, tentative as they rub across Dorothea’s shoulder blades. Dorothea finds herself shivering, drawing her knees in closer as Ingrid presses closer, shifting, the feeling of her legs, strong against Dorothea’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It should mean nothing, and it does mean nothing, Dorothea tells herself, even as Ingrid moves down her spine, hands tickling where they move over Dorothea’s waist. It’s nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to do the back of your neck, too?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid’s voice is quieter than usual, and closer to Dorothea’s ear than she was expecting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea swallows. “Sure, darling. Thanks.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It almost feels like a massage, Ingrid’s hands against the top of her spine, rubbing into the muscles there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then, Ingrid pulls back, leaving Dorothea’s back feeling cold. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Done!” Ingrid says, and she’s much too chipper as she takes her hat from her bag and plops it on her head, tightening the string until it’s up under her chin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea turns, having to resist the urge to laugh again at Ingrid’s get-up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Ingrid asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Dorothea says, shaking her head. “You’re just real cute, you know that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid’s cheeks color, her nose scrunching in the most adorable of ways. “Shut up. Are we going swimming or not?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea pushes herself to her feet with a huff, extending a hand to Ingrid. “So pushy, Ingrid,” she sighs dramatically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid sticks out her tongue. Dorothea laughs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they near the water, though, Dorothea senses a change coming over Ingrid. Her shoulders stiffen, her lips setting into a straight line with every step. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” Dorothea asks when she notices Ingrid’s hand is tightening like a vice around hers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m great,” Ingrid says. “It’s just, um, I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t really, um, know how to swim?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea, in fact, did not know that. “Of course I knew that!” she says. “We’ll just stay in the shallows, yeah? You’ll be just fine.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Ingrid says nervously, but still steps closer, until the sand is damp underneath her feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Dorothea says, pausing for a moment. She turns to fully face Ingrid, taking both her hands in hers. “I’ll be right here with you.” She runs her thumbs across her knuckles. “I’m not gonna let you get hurt, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid takes in a shaky breath, then squares her shoulders. “Okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea takes a step backwards, feeling the waves lap at her ankles. “See? It’s easy.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid’s face is pale as Dorothea pulls her forward another step, flinching when the cold water hits her bare ankles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re doing great, darling,” Dorothea says, giving Ingrid’s hands a squeeze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She steps back again, and then Ingrid’s in the water fully now, her calves disappearing underneath the waves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I let go, are you gonna run back to the towel?” Dorothea asks, grinning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid doesn’t smile. “Don’t let go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you say, my Ingrid.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stand in the water for several long moments, joined hand in hand. Dorothea watches as Ingrid relaxes in increments; first her face, then her shoulders, until she steps forward on her own, still not letting go of Dorothea’s hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Better?” Dorothea asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid nods, not speaking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I let go?” Dorothea asks, even if she doesn’t particularly want to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” Ingrid says, but only holds Dorothea’s hands tighter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dorothea says, but doesn’t move. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dorothea,” Ingrid says, face even more pale than usual under the brim of her hat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ingrid.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to- Can I kiss you?” Ingrid asks, nails digging into Dorothea’s hands almost involuntarily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um.” Of all the things Dorothea thought Ingrid would ask, she didn’t think it’d be this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit,” Ingrid says, and finally drops Dorothea’s hands to cover her own face with them. “Sorry. It’s this stupid ocean. Goddess. My thoughts are all-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ingrid,” Dorothea says. “Chill. Look at me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid peeks at her through her fingertips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course you can kiss me,” Dorothea says. “You were so terrified,” her voice takes on a teasing lilt, “I guess you deserve it as a reward.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s that blush again. Dorothea takes a step closer, taking Dorothea’s hands in hers again, giving her a look of encouragement as she guides them to her waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ingrid surges forward then, and her lips are chapped and wind-bitten against Dorothea’s, her cheeks soft under Dorothea’s hands. Dorothea eyes flutter closed as the rim of Ingrid’s hat bumps against her forehead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seems like just a moment before Ingrid pulls back again, her eyes wide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” Dorothea asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think… I’m going to be sick,” Ingrid says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothea has never stepped back from a kiss faster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not from the kiss!” Ingrid explains frantically, even as she clutches her hands around her waist. “Goddess, fuck.” She bends over, holding her head in her hands. “The fucking… Goddess, I think I hate the ocean.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All Dorothea can do is laugh.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://bizzybee.carrd.co/">Carrd</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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